


Deception

by TheHappyRabbit



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Altered Mental States, Betrayal, Fate & Destiny, Love/Hate, M/M, Multi, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHappyRabbit/pseuds/TheHappyRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bond that should have been. Three mechs changed both in body and mind. A war that should never have happened. But then... why did it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny has been nipping at me for a while and I finally have things more organised in my head now to actually write the damn thing.
> 
> Title: Deception
> 
> Chapter: Prologue
> 
> Verse: G1
> 
> Summary: A bond that should have been. Three mechs changed both in body and mind. A war that should never have happened. But then... why did it?
> 
> Warnings: Plot bunnies... They are devastating and horrible and ultimately your doom.
> 
> Chapter Word Count: 435
> 
> Total Word Count: 435

"You had the chance, and you blew it, again!"

Optimus Prime shuttered his optics, servo squeezing the top of his nasal ridge. "I am aware." He answered simply, avoiding the sharp blue gaze.

The other mech huffed loudly through his vents. "Optimus! You can't keep doing this! The war has to end! Now! Cybertron is in ruin, is that what you wish for Earth as well?"

The Prime stood up optics hardening. "You think I want that?"

Ultra Magnus sighed, gaze and stance softening. "Orion, I know what you see everytime you face them, but you must also see they are clearly not who they once were. I don't know why they have changed, but they have and they have made their choice." The large blue mech placed a comforting servo on the red mech's shoulder. "You have to move on."

With that his old friend left him alone in his office. With a weary sigh he collapsed back into his chair. He couldn't count how many times he had had this argument anymore but he knew that the disappointed stares were getting more and more intense, some even turning into stares of disgust. How could he not kill such monsters? How could he not end a war that was killing his friends and those he cared about?

They, his Autobots, were losing faith in him.

And no matter how much he tried to forget, tried to see what was in front of him, the past always hovered over him. Blood red optics stared at him with hate, but they had also stared at him with love. Servos that tore and caused pain had once been a source of comfort and pleasure.

And then there had been him. Bright and brilliant. He had brought them together, had been their core. But he too, was no more. A face that had once smiled, optics that had once shone now only scowled and glared hatefully. He had gone from the most beautiful to the most ugly.

But why?

Why?

He had given up long ago on trying to find out.

His spark swelled with pain, possibly in loss of a bond that could have been. The Matrix gave an angry throb, as if trying to say something, like it had always done when Optimus' thoughts went this way. Once again he ignored it. He had tried everything. There was nothing he could do.

The Matrix gave one last throb, almost painful, before swirling quietly with his being once more.

"Next time," He whispered to himself, "Next time I will end it."

However, he knew he could not.


	2. Glyph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Deception
> 
> Chapter 1: Glyph
> 
> Verse: G1
> 
> Summary: A bond that should have been. Three mechs changed both in body and mind. A war that should never have happened. But then... why did it?
> 
> Warnings: None this chapter
> 
> Chapter Word Count: 1,859
> 
> Total Word Count: 2,294

He traced the mark once more, fingertips brushing the glyph softly, following the smooth lines, before his optics flashed a cruel crimson. He folded his wing back into its proper position and hid the glyph that he had been born with. No one knew what it had meant, except maybe a mark of the Winglord which he was to grow up to be.

Starscream sneered as the familiar pressure resurfaced in his processor after touching the mark. It always did and yet he couldn't help himself, like the mark had meant something more. Ghosts of memory would float out of his reach, barely there, but he could never remember what they were, what they meant, but they were always accompanied by the painful sense of loss.

He hissed, annoyed and frustrated, like he always was these days. Another day trying to run an army of idiots, of dealing with an incompetent leader, he didn't have time to dwell on unexplained emotions and memories that were so unimportant he couldn't even remember them.

He ran his morning diagnostics, checked his weapon systems. Checked his quarters security system.

All clear.

He sent a ping via com to his Trine Mates. "Meet me on the Bridge."

"What's the schedule today?" Thundercracker pinged back with the proper and respectful glyphs.

Starscream growled as he exited his quarters. "Patrol."

"Seriously? Again?" Skywarp moaned, clearly only after coming online if the hazy reply was anything to go by.

Starscream ignored him. Thundercracker would make him get up and do his job. He wasn't Starscream's problem. Their Trine bond had been strained for a long time now anyway. They were still efficient in the air and that's all he cared about.

It was shift change on the bridge and several tired and grumpy grounders backed against the wall to avoid him, none met his gaze should they invoke his ire but none greeted him with proper protocol either.

He could feel his energon boil. This is all his fault! Not showing me the respect and recognition I deserve! He thought bitterly, face twisting into a sneer as the doors opened and he gracefully glided in.

Megatron's optics caught him immediately in an angry glare. "You are late. Soundwave has your flight path. Get those wingmates of yours and do something useful for a change!"

Before Starscream could retaliate with a snarky remark the grey mech turned his back on him and went into the meeting room, doors swished shut as soon as he had entered.

Tri-coloured wings tensed up in anger. How dare that rust heap! He took a step forward to follow him but a blue frame got between him and his target.

"Course of action: not advised."

Starscream nearly lived up to his name.

"Soundwave! get out of my way!"

The blue mech stood taller, but gave a small bow of his helm, trying not to appear challenging. "Negative. Megatron: not to be disturbed."

The Seeker hissed. "Why? What's he doing? Wallowing in his recent humiliation by the servos of Prime?"

A few mechs gave him dirty looks.

"Shockwave: important message from Cybertron."

Starscream spun on his heel. "From one aft kisser to the next, is he really that wanton for undeserved adoration? Especially from that freak!" He flicked his wings in disgust. "Soundwave, ping me the details for our little excursion. And when I get back, I need to talk to our mighty leader."

He didn't wait for a reply, merely reviewing the flight plan as he received it. His Trine Mate arrived and they set off for their three hour patrol mission.

XxXxX

Flying used to be a source of enjoyment for Starscream, now it was merely a source of escape from the oppressive daily ongoings of the Decepticon army. Skywarp however, was a different matter entirely.

"Can we please do something fun?" He dared try to tip Starscream's wing with his own. "Even if it's a maneuver!"

Thundercracker's engines gave a howl in annoyance. "I thought you didn't want to go out today. Only this morning you were complaining about how Earth's atmosphere is very damp."

Starscream gave the offending black wing a smack with his own and the purple idiot fell back into his place. "We are trying to be discrete. We don't want the Autobots to know of our next target you imbecile. And don't dare do that again!"

Skywarp gave a lazy roll in response.

"You know he is right Warp." Thundercracker, always the calm voice of reason. "We are nearly there anyway."

So Thundercracker was right, when Starscream checked their position. He hadn't been paying attention. Something had been playing on his mind, something he couldn't quite understand.

Optimus Prime could have ended the war.

But he didn't.

And Starscream didn't think it was for the same reasons as Megatron. A weak sparked, sentimental coward. Optimus had killed many Decepticons if it meant saving the lives of others, so why wasn't Megatron dead?

The memory resurfaced, of the Prime standing above the fallen tyrant, the barrel of his blaster glowing with charge. Pointed at Megatron's spark chamber.

The sudden feeling of distress overcame the seeker as it had when the memory was made. Distress over what he wasn't sure, but what he was definitely sure of was that the same distress had been mirrored in a faltering blue gaze.

Optimus Prime was distressed about pulling the trigger?

Starscream could clearly remember the pain and loss flashing in that gaze, and the begging...

Begging for what? That Megatron would just die himself? Starscream sneered, what did he care if the Prime couldn't pull the trigger or not and why. But he did. Something kept nagging him, it was like… His spark constricted painfully in his chest and he slowed to a stop mid air, transforming.

"Starscream?" Thundercracker asked, alarmed and transforming out of shock.

Starscream's optics flashed, confused. What just happened? Why did he stop? He tried to remember what he had just been thinking about but couldn't quite grasp it. His spark was pulsing normally.

"Nothing," He lied smoothly. "I just want a quick scan before we go any closer."

Skywarp, who had circled back round, just gave a small wing flick in question.

"Transform, we must continue on."

Thundercracker gave him a worried glance before he did as ordered.

XxXxX

His frame ached, limbs throbbed but he refused to stay in the medbay. He had an army to run after all and wouldn't dare to give Starscream a chance to prove his competence with such a position.

Even if he didn't admit it out loud, Starscream was a very talented and clever tactician and scientist.

He growled, but he couldn't stand the little lying pile of scrap. And he certainly would not admit that a little spoilt princeling could do anything better than he himself could.

He sat down at the top of the meeting table and turned around to be able to see the large screen. A touch to the keypad on the arm of his chair had it onlining with the visage of Shockwave.

"All Hail Lord Megatron!"

Megatron felt the sides of his lip plates twitch into a smirk. "Ah! My most loyal Shockwave. How fares my planet?"

The purple mech bowed his helm. "Not well, I'm afraid. Energon levels are at an all time low. Kaon is suffering greatly. Our security system is getting the priority of course but I fear it is not enough to keep it at optimal function."

The grey mech felt his smirk drop. "I'm afraid our last raid was not as successful as I had hoped. I can only send you a very limited amount. It will have to suffice."

The single yellow optic flashed. "Very well my lord. I trust in your judgement."

Megatron felt a shock of… guilt, no, not quite guilt, as that yellow optic flared in...annoyance?. He squashed it down, Shockwave was incapable of such blatant disrespect.

"Good. I must return to planning our next attack."

He tapped a button and the screen went blank.

Soundwave entered on que. "My Lord?"

"Soundwave, I want an inventory check. Weapons and ammo as well as energon. Any we can spare will be sent to Cybertron. Once Starscream gets back with his full report we shall start planning for our next raid."

Soundwave set about his tasks with a small bow.

The Warlord reread the initial report gathered on their target as he lounged in his chair

It was a nuclear plant. Able to produce a couple of thousand cubes for their allotted time scale. If they could in fact reach the intended target then perhaps they would not have to do a raid for fuel but a frontal assault on the Autobot ark itself.

Nothing would please Megatron more than getting his servos around Prime's throat after the last time they met in battle.

His face gave a painful throb as a reminder of Prime's left hook.

He snarled, threw down the datapad and crossed his arms like a sulking sparkling. How did he even let the Prime get him in such a vulnerable position anyway?

Blue optics flashed across his mind.

He rubbed them away with a servo, flinching at the slight pain and intensity. And why did Prime always look at him with that look? What did it mean? It was like he wasn't looking at Megatron at all, but someone else. It infuriated the grey mech to no end, that his greatest enemy couldn't even see him when they fought.

"Lord Megatron." It was Soundwave, the blue mech having silent entered the room. "Inventory: as requested." He bowed, holding out the datapad for Megatron to take.

The large mech released a harsh vent. "And what of Starscream's patrol?"

"Mission: success. Starscream: returning with relevant information."

Megatron blinked. "Returning?" He asked, had he not only sent him out a mere hour or so ago?

Soundwave nodded. "Affirmative. Estimated duration of mission: 3 Earth hours. Actual duration: 2 hours and 42 minutes."

Megatron blinked again. He checked his chronometer to see that indeed it had been well over two hours since Starscream had left. What had he done in all that time? The data pad he had thrown down had very little on it, and he had only spoken to Shockwave for less than five minutes.

That didn't make sense.

A plate on the left side of his chest itched and he rubbed his fingers over it. When his digits found a small indent he froze.

He growled, finger roughly tracing over the glyph imprinted on his armor. Whoever had left that mark on him, he didn't know but it had its moments of being an annoyance to him to the point where he wished he could find the mech and kill him for even daring to mark his armor.

He traced it one more time, the anger draining from him like it had never been there before.

"Soundwave, when Starscream arrives, tell him I will receive him in my quarters. I want you to debrief his Trine."

He didn't wait for a response and headed to his quarters, fingers still tracing the glyph.


	3. Loss Of Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Deception  
> Chapter 2: Loss of Contact  
> Verse: G1  
> Summary: A bond that should have been. Three mechs changed both in body and mind. A war that should never have happened. But then... why did it?  
> Warnings: Character Death  
> Chapter Word Count: 1,237  
> Total Word Count: 3,531

Orange.

Bright, disgusting orange.

The the pain hit him like a tidal wave. 

He couldn’t stop the choked cry that burst from his vocalizer, or the howl of his vents. 

Orange and pain, so much pain.

Voices, something holding him down. 

A flash of blue. 

Bright blue.

_His_ blue.

“Orion?”

XxXxX

Megatron was working at his personal terminal, looking through some of Earth's more hideous monuments so that he may choose one to destroy first when he took over the planet.

The entry request he was waiting for came through and he stood up, opening his door remotely.

His snarl ready only to fall in confusion.

“Soundwave?”

The blue mech gave a small bow. “Reporting on status of Starscream’s patrol.”

Megatron growled. “Status? I thought you said they were returning.”

Soundwave paused. “Affirmative: Seekers enroute to Nemesis. Complication: signals lost. Contact: unobtainable.”

Megatron felt a wave of anger wash over him. “What?!”

“Seekers; MIA.”

He was already on the way to the command deck, Soundwave at his heels.

“Triple changers are ready for deployment. Laserbeak: enroute to last known location.”

“At least some mechs aren’t incompetent.” Megatron hissed, pushing any low life who didn’t get out of his way fast enough.

Whatever state he had been expecting the Command Centre to be in he wasn’t prepared for the dull, quite, unworried atmosphere when he burst through the doors. Some mechs burst from their seats upon his arrival out of respect, some were so focused on whatever it was they were doing, which was quite clearly not work, that they didn’t notice and so continued to sprawl out on their chairs and desks.

Yes, he got angry with Starscream on a regular basis but the burning rage that filled him then, it was like nothing he had ever felt.

SIlence descended on the room, the murmuring fading away as mechs realised who had just arrived. Those who had been dozing, messing, and Primus knows what else just stared at him, optics wide, as they slowly rose to their peds.

When he had the attention of the entire room he merely glared at every mech who dared look at him. He waited till all faceplates were downturned before speaking.

“What is going on?” He asked, quietly. 

No one moved.

Megatron took another step into his command centre. “Can anyone, apart from Soundwave, even tell me why I have come all the way back here?”

SIlence.

Another step that brought him closer to Dirge, the highest ranking mech in the room bar himself and Soundwave. The conehead flinched but did not raise his head.

“Can _anyone_ tell me why my _Command Centre_ is being used for recreation instead of work?”

Another Step.

“No?”

A wing flinched.

Megatron sighed through his vents…. and before anyone could react Dirge was suddenly airborne, faceplate smashed and optics fritzing.  
The mech’s body smashed against the wall with a loud crash. Metal screeching as he slid down the metal surface before slumping in a heap on the floor.

He was out cold.

Mechs stared at him for a while, shocked, before all optics gradually, fearfully travelled back to the seething Warlord.

Megatron stood, arm outstretched and fist still curled, optics blazing. “Someone better tell me exactly where my Second in Command is.” Nobody moved. “Now!”

Then the Command Centre became a hub of activity. Mechs scurried about trying to find a monitor to work on. 

He let his arm drop to his side, optics glaring around the room. “Soundwave.”

“Hook: enroute.”

He nodded once and waved Soundwave off with his hand. The telepath got straight to work, already knowing what was expected of him. Megatron stalked to his throne, throwing a glance either side to ensure his orders were being carried out.

With more grace than anyone would think he possessed he lowered himself into his throne. He gripped the armrests tightly. He couldn’t believe it.

All this fragging time!

He growled, the mech’s nearest him flinching away. Still nobody dared to look his way. Not even the electric buzz that indicated com chatter was present.

He had never felt so angry, not in a long time. Had never felt so… He wanted to kill something but the sheer rage that consumed him held him fast.

Not even Soundwave would look at him.

But then Soundwave had no right to, and the blue mech knew it.

He had thought that his army was disciplined. An efficient workforce. Too afraid of him to even dare _think_ about slacking off.

What made this revelation worse? Starscream had told him otherwise.

Starscream had told him that his mechs were unruly, lazy and useless.

Unruly, yes. Lazy, it would appear so. Useless, most certainly if they hadn’t even been aware of the situation of his missing Second in Command.

And it had been _Starscream_ informing him of this?

His heated glare turned on Soundwave.

If Soundwave had delivered the same information he would have accepted it and dealt with it swiftly.

But Soundwave, his most trusted soldier, had said nothing.

The blue mech turned his body towards him, helm bent.

Megatron growled through his vents, mouth twitching. “Soundwave. Report.”

The main screen in the Decepticon Command Centre lit up. 

“Laserbeak: on scene. Visual connection: established.”

A war zone.

That was Megatron’s first though as he analysed the images on screen.

The earth was torn up and blackened. Trees splintered and smoldering. 

And in the middle of it all; Autobots.

Megatron recognized more of the Autobots’s science team then their warriors in attendance.. All examining whatever it was that had taken their interest. The majority of the warriors were gathered around something, blocking Laserbeak’s view of whatever lay between them.

“Soundwave, get me audio. I want to hear whatever it is they are at.”

The speakers buzzed to life. The wind howling in Laserbeak’s audios before the bird former zoned in on a specific target.

The microscope was speaking to the black and white Praxin. 

“I don’t know what kind of weapon did this. This damage is extensive and completely new to us. It is not one of ours.”

Prowl had his back to Laserbeak, but Megatron could see his doorwings flick in alarm.

The image zoomed out and refocused on the group of warriors huddled in a group. 

“Primus, what.... what the frag did that?” A minbot exclaimed as he chose that moment to push past the bigger mechs.

Jazz only tilted his helm, visor flashing. “No idea my man, and that is what is worryin’.” The spy looked over at Prowl. “It weren’t the Cons though, that’s for sure.”

Warpath snorted. “I don’t know, Maybe Megs got pissed off enough to finally off him. I mean, Starscream is a pain in the aft on good days”

A murmur of agreement and some separated off to do whatever they were supposed to be doing.

Megatron felt his vents stall.

The Decepticons were used to violence and gore but what they saw on that screen made some mechs turn away in shock and disgust.

It was a seeker.

Or it had been.

Its frame was torn to pieces, internal systems strewn across the ground. A wing lay near the deactivated frame, the Decepticon mark scraped off.

Mechs turned to look at him but he could not take his optics off the screen. 

His spark spun painfully in his chest, his vents stalling. 

One name kept repeating in his processor.

Starscream?


	4. Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Deception  
> Chapter 3: Threat  
> Verse: G1  
> Summary: A bond that should have been. Three mechs changed both in body and mind. A war that should never have happened. But then... why did it?  
> Warnings: None this chapter  
> Chapter Word Count:   
> Total Word Count:

All movement froze at the small sound, the small, pain filled utterance of his name.

Optimus felt his systems freeze. He searched those charcoal faceplates, those ruby optics, but Starscream had already slipped back into unconsciousness.

Ratchet gave him a pat on the shoulder before resuming his repairs. First Aid, after a moment of surprise, followed his mentor’s lead and located more severed energon lines.

On the next berth over Wheeljack and Perceptor, who had been rushed back to the ark, along with a young Groove, worked on the other Seeker.

The Prime slowly moved away to give the medics space and in doing so allowed himself to really comprehend the damage. 

Starscream’s frame was mangled. Torn. Energon flowed from so many wounds and pooled beneath his convulsing frame. Ratchet had a servo on his undamaged shoulder trying to hold him still. 

One wing was missing. His cockpit smashed and eternals exposed and sparking. One servo had been shredded, digits missing. the other was greying, a sign of his serious condition. One of his thrusters had imploded, the heel completely collapsed. He was missing the other from the knee joint down. 

It was the injury to his head, however, that had Optimus’ attention. 

Part of his helm had been torn away leaving the delicate wiring of his processor exposed. Wires were burnt and hung limply from the hideous wound. He could see some of the inner mechanisms trying to spin, to operate but their movement was jagged, sporadic.

Ratchet, on the race to get the surviving seekers to the medbay, had informed him of the possibility, the chance, that Starscream would not exist anymore. The part of his processor that had been hit controlled his memories, his personality traits created by his experiences.

He knew he should have been worried. Angry. Upset. All he felt was a detachment.

Shock?

Perhaps, he mused, as he watched the tri-coloured seeker being prepared for emergency surgery.

A scream tore him from his thoughts.

Wheeljack swiftly went from closing an energon line to holding down the thrashing blue frame but Perceptor had been knocked back, a scuff mark across his faceplate.

Optimus moved to assist, using his greater mass to better hold the panicking mech down.

Thundercracker’s optics were wide with fear. One servo clutched at his chest plates while the other grabbed at the medics.

“Calm down! Thundercracker.” Optimus soothed. “You are in the medbay. No harm will befall you here.”

The blue mech continued to thrash, not hearing a word that had been spoken to him. He let out a howl of anguish, all the mechs flinching from the audible pain. 

“It’s no use Optimus,” Wheeljack grunted as he brought out a syringe. “His Trine bond has been compromised. He can’t hear us. I am gonna use a tranquilizer.”

Optimus nodded his understanding and continued to hold the thrashing mech as the recharge inducing liquid was administered to his energon lines. 

Thundercracker fought it, howling and tearing at his chest plates until Optimus managed to get a solid grip on his arm and prevent further harming himself. As his struggles died down Wheeljack began his work once more. Perceptor waited until the mech was completely offline before continuing his.

“Are you alright?” Optimus asked him. 

The microscope nodded. “A bit shaken in truth but nothing to worry over.”

“Groove?” 

The young bot nodded as his servos shook.

“Groove. If you need a rest….”

The mech shook his head. “No sir. I just got a fright sir.” He hurriedly went back to Wheeljack’s side, handing him the required tools.

Optimus nodded, and looked back to Wheeljack. “What do you think Jack?”

His head fins lit up with a sigh. “I am not as good a medic as Ratch, but I am sure he will survive. He is the least damaged. Physically. But should Starscream also die, I fear he will follow his Trine mates.” Blue optics furrowed in worry. “Looks like their Trine bond was a lot stronger than we thought.”

“It would appear so.” The Prime answered quietly, gaze shifting back to the doors leading to Surgery One where Starscream fought for his life.

His com. link pinged and he moved to exit the medbay. _“Ultra Magnus.”_ He answered.

_“Optimus, I assume you are in the medbay.”_

Optimus felt his body stiffen at the tone. _“Just leaving it.”_

A sigh. _“I don’t blame you Optimus. I didn’t mean for that to sound accusing. I am just…. concerned.”_

Optimus could still hear the uncertainty in his old friend’s voice. _”Has Prowl and the others returned?”_

_“They are on their way. Something else has come up.”_

Optimus groaned. Already? _“Megatron?”_

A grunt down the line. _“Like clockwork.”_ He confirmed.

Optimus paused midstep, did he really want to deal with the silver Warlord right now? He still felt detached, dazed. Was it a wise decision to initiate a conversation with presumably an iratible ex-gladiator?

 _“Optimus?”_ The calm voice of his commander queried. _“Shall I delay him?”_

The Prime stood straight in the corridor. No one was around. He allowed himself a moment of vulnerability in the form of dipping his helm and rolling his weary shoulders. He centered himself in his mind with little difficulty, the Matrix giving a small pulse of encouragement. The fog of shock was still there, but he felt determination and a sense of purpose. 

_“No. Better do it now and hope that the fallout is not as bad as it could be.”_

He was a Prime. He had a duty to his people. He couldn’t let his personal, selfish wants get in the way of that. 

XxXxXxX

He could hear his friend’s pain, even through the com link. It did not surprise him however when Optimus Prime strode confidently through the doors of the Command Centre, optics glowing with godlike intensity.

His long strides spoke nothing of the inner turmoil, that was no doubt plaguing him. Ultra Magnus felt a wave of pride. This was the Optimus Prime he loved and followed. 

He received a nod in greeting as the Prime took up a place in front of the communications monitor.

“Patch him through Blaster.”

The large blue mech went to stand near his friend, just out of the frame, to provide as much support of his could. He flared his field, letting it touch against Optimus’ gently. An answering flare eased his concern somewhat.

The screen lit up, but instead of Megatron’s visage they were greeted by a video of the scene. Their Autobot response team going about their jobs trying to figure out what had befallen their enemies. Optimus didn’t even flinch.

“Megatron, I am aware of this scene.”

The screen flickered. “Are you?” The silver faceplate of the Warlord materialized, optics flashing a dangerous red. “What is this?”

The red and blue mech met the crimson gaze without hesitation. “We are not sure.”

A growl vibrated through the air. “You expect me to believe this is not some silly trick of yours?”

“I am afraid we have no explanation for this. We are not responsible. We only came across it due to reports of a disturbance.”

For once Megatron actually remained quiet. His optics narrowed in suspicion. 

“Three of your mechs are here- “

“Who is it?” The softness at which it was spoken shocked Ultra Magnus. He studied the face on the screen, looking for a trick. Optimus however, had no such worries, as if he knew Megatron would respond like this.

“Skywarp.” 

Another shock had Ultra Magnus on high alert. The Warlord seemed to shrink, his body collapsing ever so slightly. Did he just sag with relief or did Magnus just imagine it?

“And the other two?”

“Thundercracker is currently in forced stasis but his prognosis is good, unless of course, Starscream doesn’t make it.” Optimus shifted his weight. “ Which, at this moment, is a very real possibility.”

Megatron growled, expression unreadable. “I will allow them to stay with you for the moment.” Ultra Magnus scoffed, his leader sending him a warning glance. “But only because that medic of yours is well rehearsed in dealing with serious injuries.“ A customary smirk slithered its way onto silver faceplates with his taunt as an Autobot snarled somewhere in the background. 

Magnus hit the Autobots present with a burst of static through the comlink in warning. All but Blaster flinched. The red tape deck sent him a glare before refocusing back on his work. 

“Very well.” Optimus answered, well used to Megatron’s games. “We will discuss their future when they are more stable. I will contact you when I have something to report on their condition. Can we at least expect a cease fire while we deal with your injured mechs?”

Megatron scoffed. “A cease fire? Are you trying to be funny Prime!” Optics flashed in warning. “Don’t mock me!”

Optimus radiated calm as he tilted his helm. “Even with a small supply of cubes?”

Magnus felt his pump stall. _“Optimus!”_ He hissed into his com.

The Prime’s field swept calmly out to him. _Trust me_ it seemed to say even as Optimus continued with his conversation without any outward response to his commander.

Red optics narrowed. “Oh, and how many cubes would one be willing to _offer_?”

“Enough.” Optimus replied steadily.

Magnus was no fool, and he knew Optimus wasn’t either but he couldn’t help feel that his friend was playing with fire. 

He was left speechless.

“Fine!”

Optimus nodded. “A party will be organised to drop supplies at a predetermined location. I will send you coordinates when we have them. If a single member of my squad is harmed in this transaction the deal is off and your mechs will be staying with us for an undisclosed length of time.”

“Don’t push it Prime!” Megatron snarled. “If I actually wanted them back then they would no longer be in your wreck of a base!”

The communication was suddenly cut. Optimus glanced over at him with a knowing look. 

“How?”

“What the _frag_ just happened?”

Ultra Magnus and Blaster stared at their leader in bewilderment. Normally Megatron would have fought every inch if he so much as suspected he could weasel more out of a situation. That and the fact his taunts were rather… weak. Did Optimus know something they didn’t? The Prime was more amused than surprised if the glint in his optics meant anything. 

Optimus just shrugged his shoulders. “Luck?” He tried with glowing optics.

Magnus shook his helm while Blaster stretched himself out on his chair. “Never a dull one in this base.”

Magnus found himself agreeing as Optimus gave a warm chuckle.

XxXxX

Jazz was bopping his head to some unheard tune as they made their way through the Ark. His visor flashing in a rhythm only the saboteur could hear. 

Prowl frowned at his fellow officer before shaking his own helm. Best not even try to understand should he get a processor ache. 

Jazz must have been watching him from the side because a smirk fell onto his lips. “What’s up Prowler?” 

His vents huffed at the bastardization of his name. “This situation is somewhat alarming.” He replied with a cold gaze.

Jazz, unaffected as usual by his friend’s cold demure, just hummed in response, a knowing smirk at Prowl’s deviation from what Jazz had actually been referring to. “I’d say music would help ya loosen’ up a bit. Remove some of the stress from yer joints.”

Prowl just scoffed. “Moving keeps my joints working perfectly and I am sure music is incapable of ‘removing’ anything considering that it has no physical form with which to do so.”

Jazz just laughed. “Ah Prowler, don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

The Praxin only ignored him, not quite understanding what was funny only that it had something to do with his reply and whatever information Jazz had somehow obtained from it and continued on to his destination.

Optimus and Ultra Magnus were already at the briefing room when they entered. He nodded in greeting before taking his seat at the round holo-table. Jazz sunk into the chair beside him, pulling out a datapad and silently working on compiling his findings.

Prowl already had his ready to go and merely spared the smaller mech an unsatisfied glare before turning to the other two mechs.

“Did Perceptor get back in time?” He asked

Optimus nodded. “Thundercracker has very minor injuries, it was Starscream we were worried about. Ratchet has yet to come out of surgery to report.”

At that moment Ironhide walked in, face set in a scowl. The most likely cause of such an expression followed right after him. Red Alert held a data pad to his chest like his function depended on it.

Prowl had already predicted the worries of the security director and had already come up with a few countermeasures to put the worried mech at ease. Prowl couldn’t help but sympathise with him. 

Starscream, injured or not, was a serious security risk.

Especially because of Prime’s history with the mech.

Starscream, like all seekers, was somewhat pathetic at hand to hand combat. He would be easy to control and over power. With no weapons and in a confined space he was nearly helpless.

It was his quick wit and silver glossia that had Prowl concerned. 

He felt a sense of guilt as he reviewed his report. It was not that he didn’t trust Optimus, he trusted the Prime with his very life, but Optimus had shown an inability to recognise Starscream as an enemy before.

He knew their past. He knew Optimus owed so much to the mech, but they were at war and there was nothing Optimus could do about it. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Prime sent him a questioning glance. Prowl met the blue gaze with a steady one of his own showing his support and his steadfast loyalty.

If he was honest with himself...he just didn’t trust _Orion_.

XxXxX

The image that floated before them was somewhat shocking. The mechanised creature was sharp and horrid in appearance. Several appendages armed with different tools spread out from it’s tiny body. A saw, an energy blade, some sort of heavy duty cutters.

There was no doubt it had been designed for thing only.

To kill.

And it already had. 

They had pulled several of these tiny things from Skywarp’s frame. There was no doubt that they had caused the unimaginable damage.

The imaged produced by the projector enlarged the specimen so they could see it better but Perceptor had brought several of tiny machines and had laid them out on the table before the assembled mechs.

“And you are saying…” Ultra Magnus asked, optics fixated on the image, lips curled in disgust. “That these _things_ are built by humans?”

Perceptor nodded. “I have found traces of human DNA on nearly every part of them. I have no doubt they were manufactured in an automated factory but I have no doubt they came about through humans. Even the metals used, all originate from earth.”

Optimus’ body became heavy. “Are you 100% sure Perceptor?”

The small red mech looked at him and nodded. “I fear so Optimus.”

The Prime sat back in his chair, grateful he had a face mask to hide the sheer despair. He was well versed in hiding such emotions from his gaze and just hopped that none could pick it up in his voice. “Any ideas where they could have been built. Humans have multiple factions. It would do us no good to paint them all with the same brush. I would like to think we have learned from past mistakes.”

Mechs shifted uncomfortably.

The meeting had been originally to decide how to handle the seekers in the medbay and how to go about keeping the ceasefire for as long as possible while they sorted out the mystery of the attack. Optimus hadn't expected his science division to make such a discovery so quickly so when Perceptor had charged into the meeting flustered he found himself deviated from his original task.

The Matrix remained quiet and he silently cursed it.

“So we have the Decepticons banging on one door, Seekers in the Medbay and now an unknown element from those who would call themselves our allies.” Prowl stated. 

Optimus recognised the tactician’s tone. “You have a plan of action?”

Prowl nodded. “Sir, from what I observed at the scene, the Decepticon sigil had been removed from the Seekers's wings, This could mean multiple things. They could just be targeting the Decepticons but I would not like to make that assumption based on such weak evidence. This new weapon,” His gaze glanced over to the tiny objects. “could be disastrous to us too. The fact that Skywarp has been deactivated… it would suggest that the approach used was silent and quick. Seekers are fast and Skywarp can teleport. I fear that he was targeted intentionally. It's no secret to the humans of his name sake ability.

“You feel that this was a trial run?” Perceptor asked, horrified.

“Unfortunately, yes. I do. These things appear to run under their own power for a time. How they are utilized is a mystery. Were they somehow placed on the seeker frames? Where they shot as a projectile? Even for us, trying to score a shot on a seeker is a challenge.”

Optimus rubbed his forehelm. “Two birds with one stone. A trial run while taking out the one who is most likely able to dodge them.”

Prowl nodded and blue optics around the room flared with realization. “They took out the only one they believed may have been able to avoid them. Better take him out first then let him become aware of the new danger and take measure to avoid it.”

Jazz growled. “And Starscream is one of the fastest mechs around. Makes sense to be rid of them if the only counter attack to these things is merely to dodge ‘em. But I can’t believe that! Not yet!.” 

“I agree. There has to be some other way of neutralizing these things after they have made contact with us.” Ultra Magnus turned to Perceptor.

The red mech looked away. “Skywarp was most likely hit first, Starscream shows evidence of sending EMP pulses through his circuitry but that seems to have had no effect. I can try Starscream’s null rays, but if an EMP didn’t work….”

The words hung in the air.

“Is any of them still operational?” Prowl asked. 

“They all are.” The answer was met by shocked glances that darted to the objects of their concern. “Nothing to fear!” Perceptor assured. “They have a very short battery life. They are simply out of power. Which is why I believe Starscream is still alive and Thundercracker has so little injuries. Skywarp, I believe as Prowl has already stated, was the main target.”

“So wait, are you saying that once they were finished with Skywarp they then changed target?” Jazz actually looked alarmed by the prospect.

Perceptor’s gaze fell to the image. “I fear so. The ones we pulled from Starscream and Thundercracker had Skywarp’s CNA all over them. How they transferred, I am not sure as of yet. Could be something as simple as Starscream and Thundercracker tried to removed them from Skywarp’s frame only to have them turn on them.”

Jazz glanced at Prowl. “Sounds too easy. I’d say they knew their targets. Everyone here knows ole TC ain’t into fighting. I don’t think there has ever been a report about him harmin’ a single human. Besides, I’d say he was quicker then Screamer to help his Trine Mate and he is less damaged.”

Optimus frowned, spark pulsing with grief. There had been a time where Starscream would have done anything to help another. “I agree. This most certainly looks planned, so we will assume that for the moment. Prowl, I want you and Tactical to work on this cease fire. Jazz, I know you don’t have many mechs here but try and divide your team. I need eyes on the ‘Cons and the humans.” Jazz gave nod. “Red Alert, try and get the Ark secure. I understand that will require a lot of time and effort,”

Red Alert held up a hand respectfully “Sir, I have it under control. I have already put an order in for new scanning devices and movement detectors.”

Optimus felt himself smirk as Ironhide rolled his optics. “Perceptor, those things are all yours. Get as much as you can from them and then share your findings with us all once you have them.”

Everybody stood, prepared to end the meeting, helms bowing in respect. 

“Spiders.”

Jazz was looking down at the tiny machines, visor dull in thought, oblivious to the confused stares till his gaze met Perceptors.

“Oh! I mean those things. They look like spiders. Except metal and even more ugly then their organic counterparts of course. I mean look! They even have fang things!”

Optimus arched an optic ridge. “Alright!” He exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention. “Spiders it is!”

XxXxX

Ratchet collapsed into his chair, sighed, then picked up the cube left for him. First Aid followed behind him. The young mech was exhausted after the long surgery. It wouldn't surprise Ratchet if the mech couldn't remember half of what he had been taught in there, not that he blamed the mech. 

It had been touch and go for a while and he wouldn’t be surprised if the young mech’s vocabulary had acquired some new curse words.

“Sit down Aid before you fall down.”

The mech did so, flopping down into the chair opposite his mentor. He lifted his own cube from the desk, no doubt both had been left by Wheeljack, and took a long swig.

His light blue optics had a dullness to them, one Ratchet recognised all too well. He would have been alarmed only he had plenty experience dealing with it, the inevitable wall that every young medic encountered at some point in their training. They either got over it, or turned away. It was their choice to make.

“Talk to me Aid.”

Blue optics met his own and First Aid opened his mouth to reply but no words came out. Instead he grunted and turned away.

Ratchet sighed. “You’re a good medic Aid. You have the potential to be a great medic.” Optics flashed at him in surprise. “I see the doubt, youngling, the fear that you will never be good enough. I know that fear Aid, I have felt it, I have seen it but I know that you will overcome it.”

First Aid let his field flare, full of emotion. “Ratchet, I messed up!”

Ratchet nodded. “Yes. You did. And it could have cost Starscream his life.” The young mech bowed his helm in shame. “But Aid, you learned from it. You fixed it. You saved his life.”

Confused optics flared bright blue. “It was automatic! I didn’t even think Ratch!” He cried, servos curling into fists.

Ratchet just sat back and smiled. “Exactly.”

Aid’s forehelm furrowed. “But…”

“But nothing. You did exactly what I taught you to do to fix the wound you had unintentionally caused. And you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t panic. You dealt with it. That Aid, you taught yourself. I could teach everything in the universe but those three things. You, unknownst to yourself, had confidence in your abilities.”

First Aid’s optics were wide, vents stilled mouth gaping like a fish. Ratchet did what any good mentor would do and took a picture.

“Aid, I am _proud_ to be your mentor.” he said, trying not to smirk.

The younger medic looked down at his servos, they were no longer curled into fists but lay relaxed on his lap. “Ratchet… I…”

“No! That’s enough. Get out of my medbay! Go on! Go get some recharge and chill for a while. You deserve it.” Ratchet waved him out with a flippant flick of his servo.

The young mech was out of the medbay in a flash but not fast enough that Ratchet didn’t see the beaming smile beginning its way onto his tired faceplates.

Good, he thought as he took a sip of his energon, one potential catasphere avoided.

Then he grunted as a new one walked in through the doors.

“Ratchet?”

“Shouldn’t you be in recharge.”

“That’s cold Ratch.”

“Well then get a blanket!”

Ironhide folded his arms. “Seriously ya grumpy old rust heap? That’s how ya are gonna play tonight’?” 

Ratchet shrugged at his lover. “Perhaps.”

Ironhide scoffed and plonked himself on Ratchet’s desk. “Come on Ratch, come back with me tonight? Ah need the company. You could use the company.” A dark red servo picked up his own and traced over some of the sensitive seams.

The medic raised an optic ridge. “Not a chance Hide!” He grumbled tearing his hand back from the red mech. “But maybe in the morning.”

Ironhide only smirked in triumph as they made their way back to their quarters.

The medic already had a way of wiping it off before they even left the medbay.

XxXxX

Both mechs failed to notice, as they left the medbay, was two sets of optics following their departure.

Sunstreaker scoffed as the older mechs disappeared. 

Sideswipe made a gagging noise. “Those are some bad images.”

The yellow twin gave him a thump and signalled him to shut up with a digit across his lips. As one they crept along the medbay and stopped outside one of the isolation rooms. No doubt it was locked but the mech inside wasn’t the one they wanted to see.

Still curiosity got the better of the red twin as he activated the viewing screen beside the door. Thundercracker was out cold on the berth. Cuffed and sedated. His frame was fully repaired but the welding lines and repair patches were still visible until the seekers repair nanites integrated the new material and recoloured his armour to his natural blue.

Sunstreaker just gave his Twin a bored look before inclining his helm towards the surgery recovery room.

“I’m commin!” Sideswipe whispered before slipping past his brother to enter the room first.

Sunstreaker just avoided crashing into him as he stopped dead.

Royal blue optics glared at them from the foot of Starscream’s berth. Another pair just frowned at them from the far side.

Sunstreaker was the first to react. “Ultra Magnus, Optimus.”

“Sir!” Magnus growled, optics narrowing further.

Sideswipe clipped his peds together and saluted, his brother following his lead at a slower pace.

“Sir!”

Optimus sighed through his vents. “Why am I not surprised?” He looked disappointed.

“You misunderstand!” Sideswipe began only to be silenced by Ultra Magnus’s engine growling.

The Prime waved a hand. “Let them talk Magnus.” That all knowing gaze turned to them. “Well?”

“Sir, we don’t trust him!” Sunstreaker answered immediately and Sideswipe slapped a palm to his forehelm.

To the red warrior’s surprise Optims just nodded. “And you have every right not to.” And then they were fixed with _that stare._ The one that made their sparks shrink with shame. “But you know better then to act upon it.”

The brothers shared a glance. They didn’t even bother communicating through their bond, there was no point. They were caught. They respected the Prime. There was no getting out of this one.

“Sir, we didn’t intend to actually cause him harm, just to observe him.”

Ultra Magnus scoffed. “That is not your responsibility. Do you not trust your superiors?”

Sideswipe elbowed his brother before Sunstreaker could reply with some sort of remark about certain superiors.

“We trust in our Prime Sir!” The red twin answered quickly, too late he realised that he had just insulted the commander anyway.

Optics narrowed in response but the large blue mech didn’t push. It was well known that he and the twins had a less than favourable working relationship. They had no respect for him and he for them. It was a relationship that just kept spiralling down the drain.

“Magnus is right. Trust is a big thing in this army. It is what separates us from the Decepticons. If you can’t trust those around you to do their assigned jobs then how can you expect them to trust that you have done yours. It works both ways.” They all knew, Prime included, that his speech was merely to try and ease the tension while at the same time informing them how unhappy he was about the work ethic of all mechs involved.

“Sir,” The Twins bowed their helms in apology, but Sunstreaker also sent a glare to the blue mech. 

Ultra Magnus too, bowed his helm to the Prime. 

Optimus nodded. “You two are to report to Prowl. You know this is against protocol. He is already aware of your… adventure.”

“Sir.”

They received a data burst from Optimus at the same time. _Go to Prowl in the morning. Get some rest, just don’t let Magnus know._

They showed no outward reaction to the Prime’s message but bowed in tandem before spinning on their heels and leaving the room.

They were silent till they left the medbay, both mechs deep in thought.

“Wasn’t expectin’ that!” Sideswipe exclaimed with a smile, not one to be upset over anything for long.

His twin, however.

“Did you see him?”

“Huh?” The red mech felt his pump stall! “Frag it all!” They went there to see Starscream…. and he had forgot to look at the seeker while they were there. “Did you?”

Sunstreaker blinked at him. “I meant _Prime!_ Not Starscream.”

Sideswipe arched an optic ridge at his brother.

“Prime looked… upset, Sides. I mean… like it was a friend on that berth, not a Decepticon.”

The red twin only frowned more.

Sunstreaker huffed loudly. “Nevermind halfbit!” He stomped down the corridor to their quarters leaving a confused Sideswipe to leisurely trail after him.


End file.
